


Something That Can't Be Explained

by TheLadyOfMasks



Category: steter - Fandom
Genre: Anger, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Peter Hale, Helpful Peter Hale, M/M, Memories, Post-Nogitsune, bad things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 03:30:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16884813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLadyOfMasks/pseuds/TheLadyOfMasks
Summary: Stiles doesn't know his up from his downs anymore. Peter helps him see clearly.





	Something That Can't Be Explained

He swung the bat and the end of it skimmed the side of the can, causing it to wobble in place but nothing more. Stiles gritted his teeth as the anger rose inside of him and swung again, sending the empty aluminum container flying. It bounced and rolled a little ways away, coming to a stop near a tree.

‘Just let go baby. Lock it away.’

He closed his eyes to the voice in his head, biting the inside of his cheek and took a deep breath in through his nose before blowing it out between half parted lips.

“I can’t. Mom…I can’t.” Collapsing to his knees, he let the heavy stick fall and roll away from him, resting his palms on his thighs like a samurai and bowed his head.

‘You are so strong, baby.’

”I’m not. I should have let him bite me.” Stiles whispered brokenly. “Damn it, this would have never of happened if I—” He jumped suddenly on the spot to the sound of a crow cawing as it flew overhead and lifted a hand to rub over his face, groaning in frustration.

‘Allison!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’

Eyes going wide, Stiles fell back and winced at the sharp piece of glass from what he could only guess was a beer bottle that embedded itself in the flat of his hand. Looking at it, a noise escaped from the back of his throat at the sight of the blood that filled around the edges and began to run down his arm. God, why did he get so queasy over little things like this?

“Clumsy one, aren’t you?”

Stiles pushed his feet into the dirt, using his uninjured hand to help him get up from the ground at hearing the all too familiar voice of the former alpha.

“Go crawl back under your floorboards, creeperwolf.” He gritted out, turning and walking over to his bat and swiping it up from the ground while shoving his bloodied hand into the pocket of his hoodie.

“Now is that any way to treat the man who helped break you free from the possession of a thousand year old fox demon?”

“Yeah, cause you did that out of the kindness of your undead heart.” Stiles rolled his eyes, making his way toward his jeep, wanting desperately to get away from the preserve and a certain psychotic wolf. The grip to his arm caught him off guard and he lashed out with the club when pulled into a firm chest, yelping when his wrist was caught and Peter put pressure on a point between the joined bones and cartilage causing Stiles to gasp.

“Drop it, Stiles.”

He did. Biting his lip hard and closing his eyes tightly at hearing it finally connect with the ground at their feet. “You are fatuous to even believe for a moment that you could break free, let alone hurt me with what would only be yet another outcome like that night at the hospital with the twins.” Peter exclaimed in a matter of fact tone as he tugged the other hand with the shard stuck in it from the depths of Stiles’ pocket, making the teen wince in reaction.

“Does it hurt?” Peter cooed viciously.

He’s not sure as to why it is that the older man is acting like this.

“Yeah, it hurts.” Stiles whines after a bit more struggling. He’s yanking hard enough that he’s pretty sure he’ll dislocate his arm if he continues. Which he doesn’t.

“Are you done?”

Stiles nods, refusing to make eye contact considering the position that he’s in. Its strange the way his body fits so well against Peter’s. It feels, right. And yet, it doesn’t.

“Let’s just get this out.” He’s surprisingly gentle but it still stings when the hunk of glass is finally removed. Its easy to say that Stiles is caught completely off guard when something wet and warm drags over the cut. He cries out, feeling stupid for not realizing that Peter had lowered his head if only to just lick his wound. Werewolves didn’t have medicinal saliva, but then again, there was that thing about dogs having the cleanest mouths in the world.

So…

“What the fuck are you doing?” Stiles grits out between clenched teeth at the dulling ache, trying to bring his leg up in order to shove it between Peter’s legs and straight into his manly parts. He’s flat against the surface of a nearby picnic table before he can even get a chance, with a psychotic murderer pressing his full weight down on him, his tongue still laving into the palm of Stiles’ hand.

“Stop it! Stop. Oh God.” Stiles chokes out, tears prick at the corners of his eyes and he gripping at others hand hard enough that if Peter was human it would probably break a few fingers. “Peter, this is so many levels of d-disgusting. It’s clean! Its fucking clean you sick fuck!” He sobs into the curve of the other males neck, breathing in and out heavily in his continued struggle to get free from the pain that the man above him was delivering.

Meant or not, it still freaking hurt.

“Please…” He strains out in a whisper.

And then it stops.

Stiles opens his eyes that he can’t remember closing only for his amber to meet Peter’s blues that are a lot more brighter than he cared to realize before.

“I never pegged you for the begging type, Stiles.”

At Peter’s sneering words, the teen shuts his eyes tight as memories spill through every crevice in his brain of that night at the Eichen house. He’s squeezing his hands into fists, teeth mashing together.

Not again. God, not again.

‘Let me out!!!’

That face, wrapped in filthy bandages that comes up to the locker. Jagged teeth forming a malicious grin that makes his stomach churn, and bile rise in his throat.

‘Let. Me. In…’

He’s trembling, a scream builds in his chest and Stiles feels like he’s back in the asylum, down in the basement, strapped to the chair again. That’s when he starts thrashing under Peter and let’s the howl of so many emotions break loose.

“Get the fuck off of me!” Stiles roars, wishing for claws and sharp teeth so he can sink them into the muscular arms that pin him down.

—

A sudden blow to the face has him seeing stars and then blotches and finally it clears. Peter is staring down at him with a look that’s more alien than anything for someone like him.

“Smash it. Lock it away. Do whatever it is that you have to, Stiles. You’re stronger than this.” Peter growls, cupping the side of Stiles’ face that he’d hit and brushing his thumb in a caress over the pink blemish that’s slowly starting to show.

“You’re alive, aren’t you?” He demands, waiting for an answer and his patience is starting to wear thin because he says it again. “Aren’t you?!”

It takes him a moment but Stiles nods and then realizing that the other isn’t fine with just that, croaks out a small, “yeah.”

Peter sits back and then slides off of him entirely, bringing out a handkerchief from the back of his jeans and wipes at his mouth and hands, clearing his throat before offering a second one to Stiles. Its clean, with only a few tiny bits of fluff on it that the teen quickly recognizes as lint.

Sitting up, he takes it with a shaking hand, the one that Peter had been licking like candy only a bit ago and keeps a tight grip on it.

“You bleed. You feel pain. You’re alive,” Peter tells him, turning on his heel as he goes to leave, “isn’t that enough?”

—

There’s an ugly bruise on his cheek the next morning when he wakes up. Its green and yellow with a bit of purple and blue mixed in. Stiles pokes at it and winces. Peter had knocked some sense into him, but his words still bothered the young teen.

‘Isn’t that enough?’

“Was it enough for you?.” He asked, sighing and leaning over the sink, still staring at his reflection that’s calmly looking back at him.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote and posted this as a co-writer on SteterIsMyLife on Tumblr, August 24, 2014. It's been a long time but I wanted to make sure my work was where it needed to be. The person who is the main writer on SteterIsMyLife is an amazing person who let me be a co-writer for a while. Thank you so much, Kohai.
> 
> Check out their work!  
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/steterismylife/pseuds/steterismylife


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